Rage!

The circus performance was about to begin, and tickets had to be bought to enter. General admission for adults was five lubi each, children's tickets were two lubi each, and VIP tickets were ten lubi each. Karen bought seven VIP tickets, spending seventy lubi, as VIP tickets did not offer children's discounts. Different colored tickets corresponded to different sections. Once inside, attendants checked tickets and directed guests to their areas. The VIP seats were right in the front center facing the stage. While the section was designated, the tickets carried no specific seat numbers. Each area was lined with long benches, and ticket holders within a section could sit wherever they pleased. Karen chose to sit in the third row. He sat on the far left, Eunice sat to his right, Mina and the other three children sat in order down the bench, and Alfred took the seat on the far right by the aisle. The music was loud and heavily rhythmic. A performer dressed as a clown held a microphone on stage, constantly directing people to their seats. "Do you find it too loud?" Karen asked Eunice beside him. "No, I think it's very lively, and I'm looking forward to it," Eunice smiled. "I've never been anywhere this bustling." Karen figured that by "lively," Eunice probably meant "down-to-earth." At last, the audience was mostly seated. The clown let out a screech into the microphone, intending to gather everyone's attention, but the speakers blew out with a blast of electric distortion. Seated at the very front, the VIP ticket holders were closest to the speakers, taking the brunt of what amounted to a sonic attack. Karen drew a deep breath and glanced at Eunice and the children, finding that although they were covering their ears, they were still laughing. "Distinguished ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Cachiro Circus arena! The wonderful show is about to begin. Taking the stage first is our beautiful diva, presenting Rojia's famous song: 'Rojia Lover'!" A slightly plump female singer in a snug blue costume walked to the center with a microphone. As the accompaniment struck up, she began an emotional rendition of "Rojia Lover." It was a song composed by a Ruilanese-descended singer of Viennese nationality who had been born in Rojia City but moved to Wien with her parents at the age of three. The song had once won an award at a music festival in Wien. While in the eyes of a traveling circus from out of town it might represent the pride of Rojia City, the locals of Rojia had practically never heard of it. And indeed, that was how it went. The singer's vocal technique was decent, but the song's melody and lyrics were far too ordinary, leaving everyone bored. However, the opening song's only purpose was to ease the atmosphere, soothing early arrivals who were growing restless while buying a bit more time for those still purchasing tickets outside. After all, people were here to watch a circus, not attend a concert. From Karen's perspective, this speaker, this visual aesthetic, the frozen ground, and the surrounding crowd instantly threw him back into the atmosphere of a countryside funeral marching band in his past life. The singer was quite dedicated, attempting to interact with the audience midway through and even thrusting the microphone toward the crowd, but everyone was hearing the song for the first time—how could they sing along? Thankfully, the song finally came to an end. Clearly relieved, the singer bowed to the audience below: "Thank you, everyone!" Immediately afterward, horses galloped out as routine, circling the stage. Male and female acrobats on horseback performed various high-difficulty stunts, and the audience erupted into waves of cheers, with the children screaming in excitement. Only now had the circus performance truly begun. Next came the animal taming act, where a lion performed various tricks under the handler's commands, looking thrilling indeed. Meanwhile, Alfred, seated at the far right by the aisle, glanced back toward the entrance. Lowering his head, he spoke to Lunt, who was engrossed in the show: "Lunt, Uncle has to step out for a moment. Stay seated and protect your sisters, understand?" "Mm!" Alfred glanced over at Karen, who was sitting a bit far away. After a brief hesitation, he bent low and walked over to Karen: "Young Master, something is happening outside. I'm going out to check." Karen frowned slightly and asked, "Is it serious?" "I'm not sure. I'll go have a look." "Should we come with you?" Seeing Alfred's expression, Karen sensed matters were not simple. If there were real danger or unexpected trouble, he would take everyone home without hesitation. Alfred looked around and said, "Young Master, there are many people here, so it's safe. It's better if I go check by myself." "All right." Alfred walked out through the exit. Because most people were inside watching the show, there were few people outside aside from Chaset vendors and johns. Even so, Alfred walked straight toward a small Chaset tent. Pulling aside the flap, he saw a man dressed in Chaset garb lying dead on the ground. A woman was vigorously prying at a lockbox, cursing as she worked: "He died quickly enough, but where on earth did he hide the key to our savings?" Aside, an old man in a worn leather jacket sat on a small stool, holding a small knife. He was tapping the blade rhythmically against an iron ring on his ring finger, producing crisp clicking sounds. When Alfred entered, the old man lifted his eyelids. That single glance subjected Alfred to immense pressure. In an instant, Alfred realized that this old man was an existence he could never contend with. Almost by instinct, he compared the old man to Master Diss. His emotional conclusion was that Master Diss was probably stronger. Because Master Diss had once given him the illusion... that with enough effort, he might barely fight him to a draw. Rasma tossed the dagger in his hand to the ground in front of Alfred, saying: "Gouge out one of your eyes and give it to me. Do it carefully; don't leave any scratches." Alfred's peripheral vision darted toward the woman still prying at the lock. A faint smile touched the old man's lips, and he raised a hand: "Order — Cage." Instantly, a black rectangular frame materialized around Alfred, sealing him completely within and severing all abilities of the Succubus Eye. Rasma was a High Priest of the Church of Order. Beneath the Divine Temple, he was one of the most powerful authorities. When news spread that he was coming to Ruilan, the leaders of the Ruilan Regional Administration had trembled with unease; in his presence, they had to bow respectfully and address him as Lord Rasma. Alfred could indeed afford to look down on ordinary local Inquisitors, but the man before him held a rank far, far higher than any local Inquisitor. To a degree, he was one of the Church of Order's prominent public figures in the secular realm. Yet at that moment, Alfred, who had been on the verge of despair, suddenly breathed a sigh of relief. He clasped his hands: "Praise Order." With that, an identification certificate floated out from his pocket. Rasma's eyes narrowed slightly. He held out a hand, and the identification certificate drifted into his palm. The signature at the bottom read: Rojia City Inquisitor's Office, Ruilan Region, Church of Order. Such a title meant little to Rasma, but what caught his attention was the name beneath it: Diss Inmerlais. Rasma waved his hand, and the cage dispersed. Alfred landed back on the ground and said respectfully, "My Lord." "You belong to Diss?" "Inquisitor Diss is my direct superior." "Sigh..." Rasma sighed, making almost no effort to hide it, and stated bluntly: "I quite fancy your eye. Originally, I planned to take it by force—after all, you are an aberrant demon and I am an enforcer of the law." Alfred remained silent. "But since you are also part of the Church of Order, I would be embarrassed to simply rob you. Still, I could trade something for it. I believe I could offer a price tempting enough that you would willingly give up an eye in exchange." Alfred stayed silent. "However, since you are Diss's subordinate, it's inconvenient for me to do anything." Alfred cheered in his heart: *Praise Diss!* Rasma patted his forehead and continued, "Once, I thought I wasn't inferior to Diss, or at least not by much. But later..." Alfred: *Same here.* Rasma pointed at the corpse on the ground and said: "He insulted the Church of Order." "Understood. I will see to the disposal." They had conveniently driven the hearse here today anyway. "Mm." Rasma stood up. Just as he stepped out of the small tent, the lock the woman had been working on finally popped open with a snap. "Phew..." Rasma glanced at the big circus tent ahead. Since Diss's man was already here, there was no need for him to intervene. He had wanted to suppress the emotional turmoil stirred by his arrival in Rojia, yet who would have thought he'd end up right back where he started? With a hint of melancholy, he gazed up at the starry sky. Shaking his head as he walked away, he muttered, "Sigh. An entire day, completely wasted for nothing." ... Inside the big circus tent, the performance continued. Currently, a stage magic show was underway. The magician was an effeminate-looking man whose every gesture seemed deliberately feminized. A closer look revealed that he was actually the person who had played the clown at the beginning, merely with his makeup removed. The act was "Surviving Underwater." A tall glass container filled with water had already been wheeled onto the stage. When the host announced the name of the act, Karen had been slightly surprised. Shouldn't it normally be called "Underwater Escape"? The kind where the performer was bound, lowered into the water, struggled to untie the ropes, and finally pushed open the lid to surface for air. Along the way, audience members could be chosen to tie the knots—that was an escape. Surviving... sounded more like living underwater. "Welcome our performer, Miss Mandila, to the stage!" The magician pointed backstage, and a young woman in a dress walked out toward him, waving to the audience. Her smile was somewhat constrained and unnatural, infinitely stiffer even than Mina's when Karen had told her to sit next to Eunice earlier that day. Karen frowned slightly. Instinctively, this female performer named Mandila made him feel uncomfortable. Not that he had any issue with her appearance, but as a member of the Inmerlais family, he had spent the past few months helping out at home. Transporting bodies had become second nature, to the point where he could drive a hearse like a motorhome. Therefore, this female performer walking onto the stage gave Karen a sense of "familiarity." That smile, that texture, that gaze... If she weren't moving, Karen would have thought she was a "guest" lying on a gurney waiting to be sent off on her final journey. Her expression and smile were strikingly similar to that night in the basement workshop when Aunt Mary introduced a guest whose wife requested that her husband wear a gentle smile at the wake. Aunt Mary had used a stapler to fix the flesh on the cheek, giving the guest an "exquisite smile." Just like the smile on Miss Mandila's face right now on the stage. "Next, we invite a lucky member of the audience to come up and help us tie the ropes." The magician walked to the edge of the stage, searching for someone. Because Karen sat in the VIP seats close to the stage, the chances of being picked were high. And the magician singled out Eunice directly. Pointing at her, he spoke into the microphone: "Beautiful lady, may we invite you up to help us complete this magnificent magic performance?" Eunice waved her hand in refusal. "Don't be shy, beautiful lady. Please come up quickly, we're all waiting for you." Eunice turned to Karen, seemingly asking for his opinion, but seeing his solemn expression, she looked back at the magician at the edge of the stage and continued to politely smile and shake her head. "Is the gentleman beside you your partner? Oh, then might I invite this gentleman up to help us perform this magic trick?" Karen's eyes remained fixed on Mandila. Mandila maintained that same "smile," though she turned to follow the magician's steps and made occasional body movements, even leaning against the water tank to pose playfully, occasionally revealing flashes beneath her hemline. This sort of makeshift traveling circus didn't just cater to children, so a touch of suggestive fan service was par for the course. "Sir? Sir?" The magician called out to Karen again. But into Karen's ears suddenly came the faint voice of a girl: "I'm cold... I'm so cold... I'm really so cold..." The voice was feeble, yet in this noisy environment, it sounded startlingly clear. For a moment, a wave of chill seemed to sweep through his hands and feet, causing Karen himself to shiver. Seeing that he couldn't persuade Karen, the magician could only pick another middle-aged man sitting in the front row. That man immediately agreed and climbed over the low railing onto the stage. "This way, sir," the magician guided him. "Mandila, come welcome our guest performer." Mandila stepped toward the middle-aged man and embraced him. During the hug, the man deliberately reached into Mandila's skirt, groping her. Many men in the audience immediately erupted into exaggerated catcalls and a chorus of whistles. "All right, sir, please help us tie the ropes on her hands," the magician said. The middle-aged man began binding her wrists. He lacked any knot-tying technique, simply wrapping the rope around and knotting it. "Very well, the ropes are tied. Now let us invite our performer, Miss Mandila, into the water tank! A round of applause, everyone!" With her hands tied, Miss Mandila climbed the ladder. Before entering the water, she faced the audience and bowed, that standard smile still fixed upon her face, virtually unchanged. "Count down with me, everyone!" True to his clown origins, the magician hopped about, leading the entire crowd in a countdown: "Three!" "Two!" "One!" Miss Mandila leaped into the water tank. "Ohhhhhhh!" The entire audience cheered together. *Hiss...* Karen sucked in a breath of cold air. He felt as though it was he himself who had just plunged into the water. "Karen, what's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?" Eunice asked with concern. "No, I'm fine. I'm fine." Karen straightened back up in his seat. On stage, the magician locked the lid of the tank with a large padlock, while the audience could see Miss Mandila submerged beneath the water through the glass. Her skirt floated upward, exposing a pair of long, pale legs and creating an oddly titillating sight. She continued waving her hands, interacting with the audience from within the water, that standard smile still unyielding. "Now let us present our next acts!" The magician pulled out playing cards and began performing simple, tedious card tricks. The audience had seen such tricks countless times and had little interest, yet no one heckled or booed. Because almost no one cared about what the magician was doing. Even if he had sat down with a bowl of macaroni to eat, nobody would have criticized his performance or demanded a refund. Everyone was watching Miss Mandila in the water tank. Wouldn't she come out? How much longer could she hold her breath? "Cold... I'm so cold... really so cold..." The voice surfaced in Karen's mind once more. This feeling reminded Karen of when he had stood on the first floor of his home and heard Mr. Mossan weeping in the basement. This Miss Mandila was a corpse! And when Karen shifted his gaze back toward the tank, Miss Mandila inside turned her body to face the direction Karen was sitting: "So cold... so cold... They submerge me in water again and again... over and over... over and over... so cold..." "Who are you?" Karen tried asking in his mind. "They call me... Mandila..." "Who are they...?" "The ringmaster... the magician... the master who bought me from my parents... the ones who drowned me in water... the ones who soak me in water over and over..." Karen frowned. Instinctively, he wanted to break away from this bizarre "communication," because he already sensed a strong, complex wave of emotion rapidly infecting him: Confusion, Bewilderment, Resentment, And a hatred so thick it was practically dripping! Karen had always been sensitive to emotions. Not wanting to be influenced by someone else's feelings, he closed his eyes, giving himself a mental suggestion akin to hanging up a telephone. However, when he opened his eyes again, his vision was completely distorted. It was the barrier of water, the obstruction of glass; all the figures outside seemed exaggerated and heavily warped. Yet he still recognized a group of familiar silhouettes—the children... Lunt, Sarah, Chris, Mina, Eunice... He even saw himself sitting beside Eunice! Karen pressed his hands against the glass. He felt an intense, suffocating sensation—a suffocation that words could not describe. Even more terrifying was the despair that no matter how much you suffocated, you would not die! Because you were already dead. You couldn't die again! This was a form of spiritual torture beyond human comprehension, as though one had plummeted into an earthly Avīci hell. Meanwhile, the audience cheered at Miss Mandila's movements. From their perspective, she had maintained that "exquisite smile," and her slapping the glass looked like an interactive gesture. Karen blinked frantically, wanting to escape this state. Otherwise, he would go mad. He would surely go mad. Finally, with his next blink, Karen shuddered, and his vision returned to his seat. "Karen? Are you really all right? I was calling you just now and you didn't respond at all." Karen pulled Eunice into an embrace, burying his face against her. At the same time, his hand slipped directly beneath her clothes, touching her warm skin. It was an almost instinctive reaction, like a freezing person clutching at any source of warmth without thinking, not caring even if they threw themselves into a raging fire, for the brain was completely incapable of thought. Eunice was taken aback, but seeing Karen's pale face, she didn't push him away. Instead, she used her handbag to block his hand, shielding it from any nearby prying eyes. With her other arm, she wrapped around Karen's neck, pressing her cheek against his. To an outsider, it looked like nothing more than an affectionate cuddle between young lovers. "Pant... pant... pant..." Karen breathed heavily. He could hear her voice, feel her emotions, and even enter her perspective. Karen had interacted with corpses several times before, but none had ever imparted such an intense sense of immersion. Was it because... she was an active, moving corpse? Different from those who had lain still on gurneys or in coffins before he woke them? Gradually, Karen's breathing stabilized. Eunice kept gently patting his back, sensing the previous emotional collapse in the man she held. The audience's excitement was mounting, for Miss Mandila had stayed underwater for far too long—so long that the magician had finished several lengthy, dull, low-grade magic tricks. Inside the tank, Mandila leaned back. Her floating dress almost completely concealed her face, leading everyone to wonder whether an accident had occurred and she had drowned. Mina, Lunt, and the others had already covered their eyes, not daring to watch. "Now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time to witness a miracle!" The magician finally tossed his damned prop cards to the ground. Stepping before the water tank, he executed a pirouette on one foot, then ascended the ladder. He showed the key to the audience, swaying his hips as he deliberately took his sweet time unlocking the tank. In the middle of unlocking it, he pretended the key was jammed, dropped it to the ground, climbed down to retrieve it, and climbed back up—a series of manufactured mishaps that had the audience cursing in suspense. Regardless, the atmosphere had been whipped into a frenzy. At last, the magician turned the lock and pushed open the lid of the water tank. The next moment, Miss Mandila surfaced, raising both arms in a classic ballet posture like a dancer emerging from the water. "Ohhhhhhh!" "Amazing, amazing!" "Scared the life out of me, it really did!" The audience broke into thunderous cheers, sending the atmosphere in the circus tent peaking. Mina, Sarah, and Chris clapped vigorously with tears in their eyes; they had genuinely feared for the performer's safety. Right then, Karen, who had been resting in Eunice's embrace, turned his face around. Facing the stage, a deep, chilling glint swirled in his eyes. His lips parted slightly as he formed a silent phrase: "Go die." Miss Mandila, who had been striking dance poses amidst the audience's ovation, suddenly reached out and wrapped her arms around the magician, who stood on the ladder tipping his hat to the crowd. *Splash!* The magician tumbled into the water as well. Miss Mandila billowed her long dress beneath the surface, completely shrouding the magician's face, and pressed her body down upon him, pinning him under. The magician's hands clawed frantically at the female performer's body, far more wildly than the middle-aged volunteer had groped her earlier! From the audience's vantage point, this was merely the next act: the magician and the actress putting on a passionate display inside the tank! "Ohhhhhhh!" "Spectacular! Truly spectacular!" "Worth every penny of the ticket!" "Incredible, so breathtaking!" Nobody cared how long the performer and the magician had been locked in that embrace underwater. After all, no matter how long it lasted, they would be fine, wouldn't they? Hadn't the female performer stayed in the tank for ages without the slightest issue? Everyone simply cheered, shouted, and vented the hormones stimulated by the spectacle, secretly resolving that as soon as the show ended, they would duck into the Chaset girls' tents to let off some steam! Inside the water tank, the magician's hands ceased struggling. Beneath the shroud of the skirt, his face remained permanently frozen in terror. Yet Mandila still clung tightly to him, showing not the slightest intention of letting go. In the audience, Karen finally realized how inappropriate his actions had been, and sat upright. "Are you feeling better, Karen?" Eunice did not question what he had just done; she only showed care. Karen nodded and whispered to Eunice: "Thank you." At the same time, a girl's voice, carrying a lingering tremor of liberation, echoed in Karen's ear: "Thank you, sir."